For the Love of My Country
by Sweet-With-Talent
Summary: Happy Independence Day, Perú! I know it has almost nothing to do with the Hetalia characters but it has mentions of Alfred and I felt my country deserved all the love I can give. THREE SHOT! Please enjoy!
1. For the Love of My Country

**For the Love of My Country**

**A/N:** Happy Independence Day, PERÚ!! I paid my tributes to my birth country so now I should have the pleasure of declaring my undying love to my dearest Perú! So here I bring some of my best works! Sorry for the late time but due to health issues I was incapacitated.

Each story comes from one of the feelings desires I have towards my country. This one is easily enough that I would die for it and that I'd love my country's avatar even though he was a girl.

**Disclaimer:** Only thing I don't own is the idea of avatar countries… and probably Alfred at one point or another…

**Warning: **All of these are separate drabbles. This story is the most recent so changes in style or intensity might be due to that.

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The shrieking alarm of red alert sounded harshly as her ship began to sink downwards. She had ordered the abandoning of her ship after having successful escaped an encounter with the enemy, the lower deck had been bombed and water was quickly emerging, she had been near an explosion that had occurred during the time cross fire and happened near the control center but she continued her duties sending all injured except herself to be treated and continued to send out orders.

Soon another explosion had taken place and it had been fatal, one of her legs no longer responded and the burnt skin gave way to the blood pouring around her. Her men followed her orders of evacuating the ship and getting everyone to safety but fought against the orders to leave her.

She knew by medical experience that there was no way she would survive getting to land. She didn't tell them that. She ushered them away with a broad smile, telling them that she'd be fine and that once they returned from leading everyone else to safety, they could return for her. Besides, she reasoned with them and herself, there was nothing more honorable than a captain sinking with her ship, and that would only happen if they didn't hurry.

They left soon and she pushed herself against a partially destroyed wall facing the piece of land that belonged to her country, at least she was dying in Peruvian sea. She felt the pleasant, if a bit cold, sea breeze pass threw her open wounds making them sting.

It was good to know she could still feel parts of her body.

She felt footsteps heading her way. They were slow but firm. Fearing the presence of an enemy, she pulled out her gun and pointed at the direction of the sound. Her wounds hurt badly and she barely had the strength to hold the gun up, not to mention keep it steady. She took off the security and waited.

A body of brown hair and lean body stepped into sight.

_A civilian!!??_

She felt like screaming "WTF is a civilian doing here?" in fact, maybe she did seeing as the man stopped for a minute looking a little perturbed at her words. She put down her gun, simply allowing her arm to rest; she felt the gun slip through her fingers as they were rebelling against its weight, unable to keep up with the effort. It was too heavy. "Doesn't matter, I'll get you out of here. Just give me a minute…"

She pushing as hard as she could to lift her body, but her movements hurt badly and they were too slow. He rushed to her side, holding her to try and put her back down but she held him instead and pulled herself up paying no attention to his disapproving face and stood, not straight or as firm as she would have wanted but she at least wasn't falling down.

"Let's get you out of here before this beauty finishes sinking." She announced to him pulling his hand though it worked more as a support and they both knew it, she took merely ten steps before her knees gave out on her. She always knew they were weak.

He stopped her from hitting the ground and held her in his arms with a broken expression. She smiled softly at his expression finding it absolutely lovable, "Hey, don't be sad about me!" she teased almost breathlessly "I'll be fine, besides I'm dying for my country in one of the best ways possible: in the arms of a cute guy and for the country I love! Ain't I lucky?" she grinned at him trying to ignore the pain that broke her body little by little through their position and her reckless effort was causing in her. "I'm sorry I couldn't have done more!" he exclaimed out of nowhere, tears in his eyes, "You don't have to be sorry, the Chilean government was looking for it! Besides… at least, this time… we entered the war on our own…" she said getting a little dizzy.

"I don't want any more of my people to die! I don't want you to die!!" he cried on, "You know… when I was younger… I wanted to be… the President… of Perú. I… wanted to… do… more for… my country… but… I wasn't well liked… amongst others… talked too little… wanted too much." She managed to breathe out, she was now gulping for breath. Her throat was closing down and she could feel tears falling down her cheeks.

He now smiled at her confession, "You would have been a wonderful president, after all you loved your country like no other. Ever since you were seventeen, or eight, if you make memory." She looked confused "Wha? How did you?" she asked now unable to keep her eyesight on him "I know because I heard you proclaim it, how much you loved me. How much you wanted me to be your husband, how much you screamed when people kept telling you I was a woman, how much you swore to love me even if I were. Now that you see me, do you still love me?" he asked softly.

She felt like crying, she barely had a clear view of him as her tears and sight blurred her vision, she knew her eyesight was leaving her. "L've ya. Kiss… please." She asked, her eyes finally closing. A firm, warm, soft kiss pressed itself against her freezing lips. She no longer could feel the pain of her wounds but she could feel the numb heaviness of her limbs.

"Sc'red. Hug." She seemed to order, her words slurring. He held her as delicately as he could; tears that had dried, began once more as he noticed the temperature of her body. Slowly, her body went limp. A smile, soft and pleasant was present on her face as she faded from the world, her last and most desperate wish had been to die for her country and she had.

An hour later, a rescue crew returned to the ship with paramedics ready to help the injured captain, but the men she had ordered to leave her could only stare in despair at the still smiling face of their captain who was sitting almost peacefully in the control room, where the sight of land was the clearest and though it was nearly destroyed, a chair still stood. Her feet were barely being touched by the water, which had already taken most of the ship. It seemed impossible for the injured woman to have arrived there alone, but no other person could be found on what remained of the ship.

The wind still blew softly against her face, pushing some strands of hair back and kissing her skin already cold and lifeless.

There was such a peace in her features, the men didn't dare touch her until the sun was disappearing through the horizon and return was unavoidable.

The wind that night seemed to whisper one of her favorite songs:

Estoy enamorada de mi país  
(enamorada)  
Estoy enamorada de este lugar  
Estoy enamorada de estar así  
Yo por aquí me voy a quedar  
(mi tierra!)


	2. Fools to Believe in Justice

**Theme:** We would all be fools to pray for justice

**Series:** Hetalia

"Why are you doing this? You are one of mine. Why would you do something like this?" America demanded as he turned to a woman in a red suit, she looked at him impassively with boredom and dislike clear in her expression as she stared at his disbelief. "Is it really that bad? The countries I govern have a flourishing social-economic situation; there are few people who actually want to get out of their ways to fix such a wonderful situation. You're no longer in the prime of your youth and most of the countries remember quite well of the troubles you and your bosses have brought them. Hundreds my hate me but thousands more love me and are willing to fight for stability. What will you do about it? Send in more tyrants to destroy our economy?" she chuckled bitterly, confident to bring down the mighty nation for all it was worth, all of its self-imposed confidence meant nothing when up against the plain truth.

"You talk like an American. You still have a perfect accent, even after all those years. Not many do. You strive for liberty for all your people, no matter their race or economy, and treat them all like equals. In many ways you are more American than those that have lived all their lives with me" She lifted an eyebrow, smirk falling from her face into an impassive expression "What does that have to do with anything?" she seemed to find it ironic almost as if what he was implying should be funny but didn't quite get there.

He paced a bit before throwing his hand into his bangs, pushing them back in exasperation before sitting right next to her, "You should have been mine…" he growled as if agitated, fists clutching tightly his pants' legs. He let his head fall into the crook of her neck and lead his free arm to loosely grip the sleeve of her loose arm "It's not fair" he whimpered pitifully. She didn't move to push him away but didn't care to return the affection. Silently a phrase came from her barely parted lips "We would all be fools to pray for justice."

Silence reigned as he closed his tired eyes.

"I don't hate you, but don't get confused, I don't like you either! Now, you better get off me before my husband comes back."

He lift his head, eyes glittering in hope and happiness, "You don't hate me?" he asked eyes getting all watery, she nodded nervously and in slight disgust, she never truly knew how to deal with a crying male. Suddenly, the man-country threw himself at her, holding her closely as she tried to push him away furiously but he continued to try to hold her close.

It was too late when they noticed her husband, Perú, standing at the door way and before they knew it, her beloved had ripped her from her native country with a strength previously unseen and held her possessively to himself, turning to her precedent homeland, he growled, glaring at the man-country with volcanic fury "She might have been born as one of your people, but she chose me so keep your filthy paws off my wife." In her husband's arms one could clearly see the woman floating of her personal cloud nine, the bliss in her expression hurt the heart of her birthplace's avatar.

Why couldn't that love have been for him?


	3. Sleeping Nation

18. Sleeping Nation

**Theme:** Sleeping nation

**Genre:** Original Book – Ambición de Mujer (Mine)

**Pairing(s):** Perú-kun x Jessica

**Background: **Becoming the President of Perú was a dream-come-true, but the real treasure came in the shape of a man sleeping in her new room.

**A/N: **Love beyond appearances.

**Start!**

It had been a long day for her. A long but beautiful day, which she swore was too precious to forget and too tiring to continue. A party had been given in honor to her success at being chosen president and she had spent a good amount of hours dancing and interacting in conversations with the many people who offered her congratulations, but now all she wished for was peaceful, replenishing slumber.

She walked down the halls towards her room, anxious to leave her proper posture and relax as she was used to. It was only a few steps more, but it felt like eternity. She couldn't run towards it as she would have used to in the past, so with proper casual steps she advance with apparently no hurry towards her new room.

She hissed mentally in annoyance.

She liked her old room, thank you very much! And would have preferred to stay there, had it not been for the incessant pestering her darling friends bombarded her with when she had tried to refuse. In the end, she had managed to get them to transfer the bed to her new room, but it just wouldn't be the same. She liked her childhood house! It was big, but not overly so. It was old, but livable and positively lovable. It was a house her grandfather had built for her grandmother, and his children and grandchildren inherited. Who could not love a house filled with so much love?

She touched the doorknob; a deep sigh invaded her body, strength leaving her. She gathered up her strength, though she'd rather not have to… and opened the door. As impulse, she searched for the switch and flicked on the light.

She surveyed the room.

She felt frozen when she noticed that in the picture perfect hotel room-looking room, in the bed she had pretty much ordered to be brought in, was a man of approximately her own age. She reached for the gun she had hid behind her back; she took of the security off the weapon and checked the ammunition before approaching the sleeping figure.

She stood at a considerable distance, positioning herself with both her hands holding the guns and feet in parallel with her shoulders. She grabbed a heavy object, preferably unbreakable. Spotting a golden globe, she threw it at him. He jerked up so suddenly, shocked and outraged, that she almost felt pity for him. "¡Qué carajo!" he yelled.

_So he really had been sleeping…_

He looked around to find the golden globe and turned to look around the room. His eyes feel on her, as she was still pointing at him with her gun.

"Voy a hacerte una pregunta y espero que me respondas con la verdad. ¿Entendiste?" She spoke clearly in her second language, settling her hold on the gun pointed at his chest/head area. "¿Qué haces en mi cama?" He looked at her as if she was stupid "¿Qué parece que estaba haciendo? ¿Contemplando la inmortalidad de la mosca? ¡Estaba durmiendo, mujer! ¿Conoces ese concepto?" He rubbed the place which the golden globe had fallen onto. She held her tongue to not start insulting him left and right, clearly insulted at the woman comment. "Lo que trataba de decir, es ¿quién eres, y por qué te encuentras durmiendo en mi cama?" She still held her gun at him, but her posture was a bit more relaxed as she tried to seem a bit more professional despite their current situation. Her life might be in danger but she was still the President and she would be damned if anyone said she didn't fit the position to a tee.

He looked at the bed he was in "¿Está es tu cama? Es mejor que la basura que ponen en los demás cuartos. Esas camas terapéuticas son muy raras. No me acostumbro." He stopped as if remembering something "Soy Adriano, ¿y tu? ¿Quién eres?" He looked unaffected by the gun in her hands so she put it down, "¿No has visto las noticias, o escuchado los gritos y las aclamaciones? Dime, ¿cuánto tiempo has estado dormido?" She asked completely amazed that he did not know of her existence or name even. He started looking around a bit "¿Sabes quién es el actual president?" She felt like fainting, but then again she had been this ignorant years ago maybe he just hadn't matured enough to care. She sighed "La estas mirando, su nombre es Jessica Cole y es la primera Presidenta del Perú; mucho gusto."

He stared at her in shock, before busting in laughter. She let him and put away her gun, afraid that she would get pissed off enough to actually shoot him, which isn't good news for a recently elected President, murder on your first day in service never was. He stopped and flashed a grin at her.

BUMP, BUMP!

Her heart beat madly as an image of her national flag flashed in her mind and her head began playing her national anthem. Her senses seemed to heighten as his words fell into her ears clearly "Bueno, mi querida Presidenta, yo soy tu país amado. Soy Perú." Her cheeks flushed and her throat tightened.

She felt dizzy.

Her whole body told her that it was true.

He was her country.

He was… the love of her life…

She stumbled closer to him, she felt completely out of it as she climbed the bed and crawled towards her beloved country. She was in front of him in a second, she held his face and observed it despite the freaked out expression on his face. She smiled as prettily as she could, "Te amo." She whispered before pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

He blushed hard.

She chuckled, completely unrepentant.

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**A/N: **Since not everyone knows Spanish, here the translation of what was said:

**¡Qué carajo!** – What the f*ck (**f**ornication **u**nder **c**onsent of the **k**ing)

**Voy a hacerte una pregunta y espero que me respondas con la verdad. ****¿Entendiste? **– I'm going to ask you one question and I'm expecting the truth, got it?

**¿Qué haces en mi cama? –** What are you doing in my bed?

**¿Qué parece que estaba haciendo? ¿Contemplando la inmortalidad de la mosca? ****¡Estaba durmiendo, mujer! ¿Conoces ese concepto? - ** What does it look like I'm doing? Contemplating the immortality of flies?1 I was sleeping, woman! Do you understand the concept?

**Lo que trataba de decir, es ¿quién eres, y por qué te encuentras durmiendo en mi cama?** – What I was trying to say was, who are you and why are you sleeping in my bed?

**¿Está es tu cama? Es mejor que la basura que ponen en los demás cuartos, esas camas terapéuticas son muy raras. No me acostumbro. /****2****/ Soy Adriano, ¿y tu? ¿Quién eres?** – This is your bed? It's better that the trash that they put in the rest of the rooms. Those therapeutic beds are too weird. I can't get used to them. // I'm Adriano, and you? Who are you?

**¿No has visto las noticias, o escuchado los gritos y las aclamaciones? ****Dime, ¿cuánto tiempo has estado dormido?** – Haven't you been watching the news, or heard the screams and aclamations? Say, how long have you been asleep?

**¿Sabes quién es el actual president?** – Do you know whose the current president?

**La estas mirando, su nombre es Jessica Cole y es la primera ****Presidenta**** del Perú; mucho gusto –** You're looking at her, her name is Jessica Cole and she's the first female President of Perú; pleasure

**Bueno, mi querida Presidenta, yo soy tu país amado. ****Soy Perú. –** Well, by dear President, I'm your beloved country. I'm Perú.

**Te amo –** I love you


End file.
